


Creative Liberties

by summerartist



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: BAMF Peter Parker, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-02 21:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16795096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerartist/pseuds/summerartist
Summary: Creating tech has its perks and Tony aims to show Peter the enjoyable moments of the process.





	Creative Liberties

Aunt May always said that there were not enough creators in this world and an over-abundance of destroyers. Tony Stark somehow manages to do both. He rips apart tech, gears, and even his walls to create his vision in fluid and poetic movement. Now the maker of beautiful and terrible things is his mentor and Peter should be more wary than he is whenever Tony scraps something, especially since Tony is currently pressing a weighty hammer into his palms as he stands over a half-made suit.

The metal alloy was all wrong and it was more of a mock up than an actual project. The materials were unusable in any future projects, especially given the required clean design of Tony’s suits. Reused and worn pieces would compromise structural integrity if combined with new pieces.

The wooden handle in his hands is cold and substantial feeling. Tony also hands him a pair safety glasses accompanied by a half-smile.

“Have at it, kid. You look like you need it.”

Peter gaped at him. “What?”

“Go on.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at him when Peter paused. He automatically put on the safety goggles, a numb routine developed through many chemistry classes.

“Boss no longer has any use for the armor,” FRIDAY chimed in helpfully. “The radius of the debris should not damage anything vital in the workshop or future projects.”

Now it seemed that even the AI was encouraging the act, or was at least used to her creator’s eccentricities. Peter swallowed.

“But we can just melt it down.”

Tony shrugged. “We can, but it’s more fun to smash it up first.”

Peter hefted the maul upward, still eyeing the fragile shell of the mock up. It thankfully did not include much of the upper torso so it would not be as though he was attacking the image of his mentor. 

Tony opened his mouth as if to egg him on again but Peter was already swinging the large hammer up. He brought it crashing down and it rebounded with a resounding clang, leaving a dent on the empty shell. He looked up at Tony as he sought his reaction. Tony winked.

With renewed determination Peter returned to the task. He swung again and the maul left a medium sized scratch. He felt his arms as he swung and tried to establish some kind of rhythm in order to complete the job. Metal struck metal and left deep shadowy dents as rippled shell mixed with cracking debris. Small pieces chipped off and were occasionally flung into the air. Tony took a step back.

Peter was not quite sure what he was feeling, it was sort of “fun” to observe as well as feel himself wrecking havoc on a small scale. Monsters and Hulks may rip apart buildings for laughs but Spider-Man could flatten a suit into a pancake if he so wished.

He was smiling. As soon as he was aware that he was smiling Tony made a remark. “That’s it, don’t hold back.”

The next strikes were powerful and the vibration traveled through the cement floor. The glass panes in the workshop heaved wildly in their panels.

As he started putting a grain of his actual strength into the task he chewed on Tony’s comment that he “needed it.” High school had been stressful and was even more so of late. Being Spider-Man made him a lot of enemies with or without the alias and Peter Parker was paying the emotional price. His next strike caused something to crack and it slowly dawned on Peter that he had cracked the concrete foundation.

“Or do hold back before you bring the ceiling down. Easy, Maxwell.”

His voice was tight despite the obvious humor. He cautiously approached and Peter stopped hammering. Peter saw a twinkle in his eyes even as he examined the destruction Peter had wrought on his home.

“You know, should I be afraid that that’s the most I’ve ever seen you smile?”

Peter felt a twinge of discomfort and self-consciousness. He remembered grinning as he plunged the hammer down again and again, like a kid on Christmas morning instead of a teenager annihilating an expensive piece of tech. He knew he smiled often but the manic glee that had been displayed on his face was something he had meant to keep private.

“You said not to hold back.”

“And thank goodness you didn’t take me at my word or we would be standing around in the rubble of my most expensive workshop to date.”

An apology was already on Peter’s lips before Tony cut him off.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. I can buy entire airlines for kicks, and besides, the workshop could do with a little breaking in. A few scorch marks and scratches gives it that “lived in” feeling.”

Tony reached up and casually plucked the safety goggles off of his face and threw a companionable arm around his shoulders. He walked him away from the destruction.

“Come on, there’s take out with our name on it. We’re getting Italian with enough marinara to knock your socks off. Bon appétit.”

Peter felt his mouth water at the suggestion and he gently set the hammer down. He quickened his pace in response to the promise of food. As they entered the elevator outside of the workshop a thought struck him.

“Wait, who’s Maxwell?”

* * *

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Maxwell's Silver Hammer-Beatles ref.


End file.
